


no room for jesus

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Humor, Sexual Tension, Sparring, Unresolved Sexual Tension, also featuring ladybug the middle schooler™, chat dies a bit, implied identity reveal, in a good way not in a knee to the balls kind of way, sin - Freeform, sinful sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6201424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chat, for once in his life, nearly wins his and Ladybug's weekly sparring sessions.</p>
<p>Ladybug objects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no room for jesus

**Author's Note:**

> bless [miraculer](http://miraculer.tumblr.com/)(/[caprette](http://caprette.tumblr.com/)) and her musedrugs <3<3
> 
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: ok so theres def not enough sparring fics out there (ESPECIALLY ONES ENDING WITH EXTREME SEXUAL TENSION BUT)  
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: imagine Ladybug pretty much always wins the sparring matches  
> Huffie~: She'd be the best at it  
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: ok I’m shit at explaining so I’m doodling it  
> Huffie~: HAHAHAHAH okay ♡  
> Bullysquadess: SPARRING  
> Bullysquadess: YES  
> Bullysquadess: as (no-so-reformed) zutara trash, sparring fics are my bread and butter  
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: ok so imagine chat actually manages to corner ladybug  
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: but she hATES LOSING  
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: so she takes the middle school way out  
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: not the kicking him in the balls but  
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: [link](http://puu.sh/nyN7k/5f48eec6e7.png)  
> [link](http://puu.sh/nyN8v/2e468c0722.png)  
> Torii: how could that get sexier  
> [MUTINY THE GOAT CRIME]: [link](http://puu.sh/nyNl5/aa6f84d6b2.png)  
> Bullysquadess: Beautiful
> 
> EDIT: EDITED BY [MIRTH](http://mirthalia.tumblr.com/) who is the Actual Best

Left uppercut, right jab, spinning kick from the left while he was guarding, bounce back and follow through with a toss of her yo-yo to entangle his staff and leave him off-guard—

This was a dance they'd done so many times it was practically a routine by now.

The pattern they had was this: they'd meet up at the Eiffel Tower, usually after dark, talk for a bit, derail into flirting, which would further derail into play-fighting, which would usually morph into a three-dimensional chase, which would then flow into an honest sparring session. Their sessions typically lasted a couple of hours before one or the other tired or their curfews hit, at which point they kicked into high gear for the last ten minutes and went all-out against each other, aiming for the trophy of bragging rights until their next spar.

The outcome of those last ten minutes, Chat had found, almost always boiled down to Ladybug thoroughly kicking his ass. He could count the times he'd actually managed to beat her on one hand.

Strangely, tonight was turning out to be one of those times.

She was off her game he noted distantly, as he (far too easily) detangled his staff and caught her with a left-to-right swipe that slammed her into a wall. He ignored the tiny jolt of panic in his gut (she always got angry if she thought he was babying her or holding back; it wasn't like their suits couldn't take it, she'd pointed out on multiple occasions, and the akuma were never going to hold back) and followed up, jamming the butt of his staff against the wall beside her head and pinning her, arm braced across her throat and bodies so close he could feel her heat.

"Checkmate," he crooned, not bothering to smother his shit-eating grin.

(He needed to find out what was up with her tonight, because it wasn't just the sparring — it was odd half-glances and soft blushes and sentences cut off too soon, too... But that could wait until she'd accepted her defeat. He wasn't nearly above using her distraction to buffer his tragic win-lose tally.)

The look she shot him was so comically _offended_ that he had to fight the urge to crack up right there.

_God, she's adorable._

She always was, even without the pretty pout or the flush high on her cheeks, but right now she was close enough for him to feel her breathing, and maybe he could be forgiven for being distracted.

But maybe not forgiven for being distracted enough to miss the glint of mischief entering her eyes, and definitely for not cluing into how much danger it spelled for him...

She looked up at him, eyes narrowed and considering, and that was his first hint that maybe his victory wasn't as secure as he'd thought.

Then she smirked, and that was his second hint.

His third hint wasn't a hint at all — it was the killshot.

She twisted her head to the side, made sure he was watching her, and pressed her tongue flat against his staff.

Chat's grip went slack.

Ladybug hummed low in her throat and dragged her tongue up, up, up the metal shaft, leaving a wet trail in her wake and never once breaking their stare down, her eyes radiation-blue and twice as deadly.

Chat forgot how to breathe.

She got to the end of her reach and drew her tongue (oh god, _her tongue_ ) back into her mouth, the pink muscle disappearing for only a moment before it was back out and wetting her lips.

The gesture would've been filthy on its own, but she'd flushed almost as dark as her suit during that tiny little act, and her dark, bedroom eyes tracked his every move from underneath even darker eyelashes — the effect was _devastating_.

She leaned her weight forward, and Chat automatically gave ground on unsteady legs, stumbling in his suffocatingly too-tight suit and feeling his face burn in the suddenly icy night air.

"An opening!"

By the time he'd pulled himself together enough to process the words, he was flat on his back with Ladybug's foot resting lightly on his clavicle and his staff in her hands.

She set the butt next to his head, a mockery of what he'd done himself, and leaned lovingly on his weapon, a flustered, fluttery edge to her own shit-eating grin.

" _Check_ and _mate_."

He narrowed his eyes. Like _hell_ he was giving up that easily.

"Don't even try." She shot him down before he'd moved a centimeter, her fingers caressing the grip of his staff as the glowing green paw print flickered between them.

"Right," he ground out. Between the view he had thanks to the position of her foot and the fact that she was, in essence, _jerking off his staff_ , her fingers curled loosely around the shaft and sliding up and down suggestively, it was a miracle he managed even _that_.

She rewarded him with a much sweeter smile and pushed off, turning to leave as she collapsed his staff and dropped it next to him, words punctuated by the clank of steel against cement. "Same time next week?"

He heard himself grunt an affirmative, his world still careening wildly off its axis, before he remembered what he needed to ask.

"W-Wait!"

"Hm?"

He scrambled up to his elbows, ignoring his staff for the moment.

"Are you feeling okay? I mean, is everything all right? You've been..."

_Quiet_ wasn't the right word, and he didn't want to say _off your game_ (he knew better, thankyouverymuch), but he needed to know.

She froze.

"Oh! Um. Yes... I'm..."

Her fading blush redoubled as she started to fidget in broad, sweeping motions.

"I'm okay! A-anyway, see you later hot st— UH. Chat. Yeah, I'm good!"

Chat stared at Ladybug's wildly flailing limbs and wondered why the sight seemed so familiar.

"Bye, Ad— Chat! See you next week!"

...What the hell was _that?_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [no room for the devil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8190706) by [clairelutra (exosolarmoon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra)




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